Crack
by Hope Trinket
Summary: - "He's grown to fight, he's grown to be a little independent... But everyone has their own breaking point." Takes place during Chapter 11. Not really Hope/Lightning, but could be considered depending on the reader.


**Author Note: **_Hello, thanks for stopping by my first fanfic._

_Here is a drabble for the character Hope Estheim (angst because that's all I can write in drabbles), and I usually consider drabbles to be under 1,000 words... Not 100 words like Wikipedia says, but you get the idea. But hell this thing ended up exceeding 1,000 words... author notes not included._

_Takes place around the beginning of chapter 11, their arrival on Gran Pulse._

_And it's odd. First fanfic, and I'm not even writing in my comfort zone. I don't really like characters who need major support until half the game and I don't do many character studies, but here I am. And if I were to be honest, I don't hate Hope all that much. Looking back on this, I just decided I have issues and I am **the worst person when it comes to writing hurt/comfort**. Who writes this anyway?_

_PS: I like reviews. A _lot_. And if you took time to read and leave feedback, I'll appreciate it. A _lot. _And, since I don't Private Message (at the moment; I'm unsure right now), I will be sure to review your fanfics in return and if you like '_novel comments_' then I'm your man._

* * *

Lightning was on night watch.

That was the last thought flitting through Hope's mind before sleep caught him in its unyielding grasp. After a long day beginning with falling from the sky, at breakneck speed, feeling the searing, burning pain that surged up his wrist when his brand began acting up, and finally, the appearance of his Eidolon, Alexander. Like everyone else, Hope was surprised that he, out of _everyone _in their small group, was able to conjure a being _that large _all from losing his namesake. His personal hope had dwindled, close to being snuffed out from an endless, mental pit of despair. Not even Snow or Lightning's words could comfort him, but it turned out to be the most threatening being in the campsite – Alexander – who changed that for him.

He's beyond tired, having been roused awake from a simply disturbing dream. Even though days, _weeks_ even, passed by like leaves dancing in the wind, he was still plagued with that awful dream of the day he lost his mother. The day he was sent along with many others to be Purged. The day that changed everything. Every time he closed his eyes, he'd see from that faraway spot, standing next to an anxious, wide-eyed Vanille, his mother falling to her death. He would scream, the anguished tone mingling with Snow's...

...then it ended.

Gone.

In a blink of an eye.

He does not sit up, does not stir but rather breathes softly. Lightning's back is to everyone else, gazing out with intensity he's both familiar and unfamiliar with. The time he spent with her in the Vile Peaks after a particularly nasty fight with Odin that left them both weakened... He drifted off quickly then, but he remembered how on guard she was. At the time, there was a gap between them. And no matter what he did, because he couldn't pick up his own two feet, he continued to wedge that stone in between, pushing them further apart. Lightning's tolerance had grown thin. She tried severing the thin line that held them together, going as far to threaten to leave him. Her words stung but she was right, now that he thought about it.

But as they traveled further into the Gapra Whitewood, the tolerance dissolved to a meek friendship. The battles they fought together slowly melt and thawed at the ice of their relationship. And soon, Lightning had considered him an ally and more importantly (to him), a friend.

Hope is glad those days are over. The darkness of hate, the undying hunger that yearned for revenge ate away further and further. He remembered glaring down at Snow who hung between two planes of death: The bottom of the ledge he would have met had he lost his grip, and murder by Hope himself. Despite everything that's happened, Snow's constant assurance that the 'past was past', he still feels guilty. At first, it was a bitter mix of disappointment, confusion, and regret. Now, it's full blown guilt.

A sudden chill creeps down his spine from the cold winds of Gran Pulse. He curls in on himself more, exhaling shakily from the night air. And the action alone is enough to make him bite his lip, giving enough time for the sudden lump to expand in his throat. It's been there the whole time, waiting for an outlet... The need for someone to just hold him close, embrace him and brush back hair – like a mother comforting a child – is strong. He's been on his on for a while and it really shouldn't bother him...

...But it _does_.

Because when he thinks of parents, he thinks of Snow and Serah and the former's perpetual promise to marry the latter, the determination to start a family... He thinks of Lightning and the times she pulled him into a hug – something she _rarely _did when it came to people. He's never seen her hug anyone before, so the gesture was both awkward and comforting... above all else, a painful reminder.

Nora Estheim... His mother. A person who sacrificed herself to make sure her son would make it home safe. A person who supported him throughout his life for as long as he could remember. A person who truly cared and loved him more than anyone else in the world. A person who was unselfish, compassionate, and kind...

In Hope's eyes, his hero.

He rolls over so he's facing the log adjacent to him, the fire casting a soft, orange glow on his back, chasing away the cold air that attacked his spine. The pressure behind his eyes feels worse, and the lump in his throat is tight that it's nearly constricting him. He tries not to think about her, about his mother... But even though his father is alive, and even though everyone among this group of L'Cie lost someone dear (Snow and Lightning, Serah; Sazh, Dajh; Vanille and Fang), it still pains him. Because he hasn't seen his father, doesn't know what's going on wherever he is. His mother no longer lives in the same world as them.

A hand draws up quickly and he wipes at his face, not surprised when he notices the tear now painted in a clear streak across his flesh. His nose feels runny and out of instinct, he sniffs loudly albeit unintentional. And the stirring from Lightning's post makes him freeze and he dismisses the concern that laces her voice when she calls his name. Because he feels as if he's caused her enough grief as it is, all his drama and _holding everyone back_... The feeling of loneliness and uselessness overwhelms his senses and he scrubs at his eyes with the arm cushioned by his body and the bedroll beneath. His whole right side feels numb, but it doesn't faze him.

He just needs Nora. He's grown to fight, he's grown to be a little independent... But _everyone _has their own breaking point. And right now, though he just fought a giant castle... fort _thing_, it didn't matter. Alexander made him realize many things, but he still had feelings and he's _scared._

_"_Hey," Lightning's voice sounds from above and Hope looks over his shoulder, gazing at her face. Her features are oddly calm, lacking the usual hardened demeanor that chiseled her every expression. In fact, if he were to look closer, he could've sworn he saw something akin to _sympathy _in her eyes, as if she understood. And hey, maybe she did, but it doesn't make him feel any less humiliated when she sees him crying, tears pricking his eyes, silently slipping down his face.

From Lightning's perspective, it's almost as if she stumbled upon a lost boy.

_And she has_.

Hope is still lost in his own mind. There's always the feeling of doubt that comes back to haunt him, and coping with a mother's death at the age of fourteen isn't all that easy.

She kneels down beside him and he turns over, sitting up but keeping his gaze lowered. Hope locks down the dam holding back the sobs and whatever else in between. He has to be strong; he made a promise before everyone had decided to get rest, right? And damn straight, he was going to uphold it.

But when Lightning pulls him into that hug again, similar to the time she was reunited with both him and Snow, his breath catches. "You're fine; it's okay to let go sometimes." She says softly into his hair, and it's one of those rare moments where Lightning takes on a more maternal role, to pull him out of that abyss of doubt and what else there may be. He knows, had everyone else been awake, she probably wouldn't have hugged him. Offer advice and friendly words? Yes. But nothing along the lines of physical contact aside from a hand on the shoulder.

Though he follows her words and he just lets go. He pulls back the lever of the dam and he sobs into her chest, eyes squeezed shut as if he's trying to block out the world. He doesn't hug her in return not because he doesn't _want _to, but rather he just _can't. _He has not one ounce of strength left in his arms to reach up and return the hug, but Lightning gets the message because she hugs him tighter. He says incoherent words, knowing she can't make out the words because his voice is muffled, and the words are broken between each intake and exhale of breath.

A certain little bird knows what he's trying to say:

'_I miss her... I love her... She's _gone_...  
...I'm sorry._'


End file.
